Wednesday, January 14, 2009

ten

Dear Alice,

I'm writing to you (and, well, the INTERNET) for no real reason. No, that isn't exactly correct. I'm writing to you (and yes, the INTERNET) because you're getting bigger. Okay, that isn't exactly right either. I'm writing to you (whatever, and THE INTERNET) because you turned 10 months old on the 3rd and I missed writing about it and quite frankly, I missed writing your 9-month journal entry or whatever as well and I'm feeling all kinds of squishy about you getting older and I'll have nothing to show for it because I have all these pictures and not a single one of them has been printed out or stuck in any sort of a book. But that last reason sounds so horrible that let's just stick with the first one: I'm writing to you for no real reason.

Lately, one of my favorite things to do is to secretly
watch you play by yourself. I love to see that look of contented concentration as you carefully examine your froggy, or one of your blocks, or your chewy cell phone-- and after a few moments pass, you'll quickly throw the froggy or the block or the chewy cell phone onto the ground as you see something else worth careful examination (Clyde the crocodile, for instance). Usually I can be found during this time dumbstruck in the kitchen, thinking about how you're this real live PERSON inside a tiny Alice-shaped body, and you have all these thoughts and feelings and desires that are your very own. Like how you really adore chewing on Monty Bear's nose, but for some inexplicable reason poor Zeke the zebra is so totally boring and not worth even a single nibble.

In a few day's time, you went from finally hands-and-knees crawling to pulling up on furniture to cruising around a room faster than the mama can say "head in
jury". Nowadays you go from chair to laundry basket to chair to couch to coffee table to chair to toy basket. Sometimes you mix things up and throw in some Pant Leg (whomever's pant leg is handy). Please be careful about the Pant Leg because sometimes Mama is wearing what we call SWEATPANTS or even a SKIRT and those things tend to give way when tugged on by a little carpet nipper like yourself. (Note: Please don't expose the mama, thanks.) But I do love watching you move. Your legs are getting stronger and stronger and we think you'll be walking (heaven help us) before you're a year old.

After months of teething and waiting, and waiting and teething, we have sight of teeth. Or, as I am fond of calling a particular set of them, THE TEETH. Sorry about that, baby girl, but you're our first little one and we aren't so used to seeing such big chompers inside your mouth. We know they're going to be gorgeous one day. But for now, I am doing my best not to get my fingers any where near there.

On the communication front, I am proud to decipher the following words: daddy (da-da-da-da-da-da) and goodbye (b-b-b-b-buuu-buuu). If anyone else was to listen to these sounds, they might argue that you make them even when The Daddy is not present, and when we aren't exactly leaving - but a mama is supposed to be proud and also fiercely protective. So I stand by my assertions. Besides the words, you are clapping and waving. The clapping is just awesome. Sometimes you clap so hard you fall over, which is my favorite. Last night when daddy walked in the door you nearly gave yourself a black eye you were clapping with such wild abandon. Don't give up that passion, little one.

Other things I hope you won't give up:
- Your independence, as much as it pains me. I love how you are starting to want to do things by yourself (oh my holy moly - like EATING)
- Your sense of adventure, again, as much as it pains me. You
get this from your father and I just know that we're thisclose to you becoming a climber. But seriously, one of my deepest wishes for you was for you to be BRAVE. Because this world can be very scary and dangerous - and fortune favors the brave ones, my little pumpkin head. I have faith in you. You're going to set the world on fire, in all the best ways.
- Your joy. Oh dear, the THRILL of you! Your face breaks into the happiest, the most clear, the most instense look of WONDER for the world and everything in it! And I love that about you. Don't ever let that go.

My little bean head, I know that I tell you all the time how amazing you are, but I want to do it again and again so you'll never forget. You take my breath away with your beauty. You are the greatest example of Heavenly Father's love that I know. How else to show us what heaven looks like, then to send us a piece of it?

I love you always,
Mama
















7 comments:

The Wife said...

Dude.

1) So awesome. I love that you have a Monty Bear that lives at your house. I sincerely hope he is the first cousin of our Monte Bear.

2) I love the bit about pieces of heaven--so very true, and yet I couldn't quite put my finger on it until you said it.

3) She is seriously the prettiest thing I've seen all morning. The boy is covered in drool and spit up so I can honestly say that.

I miss you tons. Hug that beautiful girl for me.

Pickles and Dimes said...

She is such a cutie. Great photos!

And that last line is perfect.

Eleanor Q. said...

How sweet! And the sleeping picture- so serene, so cute!

Alice said...

i don't know how you have time to write ANY updates, frankly, because i would have a very hard time breaking away from a strict schedule of monching on THOSE CHEEKS OMG.

Chip said...

I love our little piece of heaven

serenity now said...

I'm sure Alice will love to read these love letters when she's a bit bigger and know how much she was loved. Is loved, at any age. I love the first picture--such joy to see You Behind The Camera that she wants to reach out and grab You. Or the camera. Whatever. She's lovely.

angelalois said...

Did everyone notice Clyde? in the picture!?! Clyde is in the picture! YAY! And he got a shout-out! YAY! And, Alice is awesome. But that has already been (beautifully) discussed.